Kari would lead the Tuncian raiders against Elazar. As far as Lu knew, their plan was still to assassinate him, while Nate, Pierce, and Rosalia planned an all-out attack against Elazar’s Port Fausta gathering. Likely Kari would use the battle between the raiders and defensors as distraction, slip the best Tuncian fighters through Elazar’s lines, and end him—if Emerdian or Grozdan raiders didn’t get to him first.
But Lu didn’t know the specifics. She didn’t want to.
Kari called her name over the docked steamboats, but Lu shot into the crowd.She was able to take a few steps at a normal pace, and it wasn’t until she leaned into her desire to beawaythat she launched forward at a breakneck pace.
She had taken Incris twice during the war. It was a rarer plant, so when the revolutionaries found some, they had put it in their spies’ arsenals to be used as a last resort. Lu had taken Incris once to escape a fortified Argridianstorehouse in New Deza, and once to combat the Lazonade that Milo had forced on her the night the war ended. Incris was the counter plant to the numbing Lazonade.
Having Incris inside her now, potentially a permanent part of her, Lu expected to feel poetic righteousness. Of course it would be Incris, a lasting rebuke to what had happened to her during the war. Of course it would be speed, allowing her to rush away from Kari and her own crippling thoughts, barreling straight into the tangled growth in her chest that wanted to lash out at Argrid, and Elazar, and Tom, and rip Teo back to safety.
She didn’t care what Kari’s plan was—because all Lu wanted out of this, her singular, selfish need, was blood. She wanted Milo to be in Port Fausta so she could run a sword through his stomach. She wanted to watch Elazar’s composure crumble as he realized he had lost, and to hear the pop of a gunshot as a bullet lodged in his chest. She wanted Tom to be—
As Lu slowed her Incris enough to slip onto a steamboat, she thought his name again. Twice.
She knew what she wanted with everything else. But Tom? What would she do when she stood face-to-face with him? Would she be able to find it within her to kill him—shouldshe? Would Kari stay Lu’s hand, beg for her traitor husband’s life to the child he had betrayed?
Lu re-counted the weapons she’d taken from Rosalia’s people. Pistols, knives, a few vials of plants used in fights—Hemlight for small explosions; the cousin plants of Rhodofume, for smoke screens, and Rhodospine, for thorn grenades.
Plotting murder. Checking weapons. How was this any different from the last revolution?
Tension ate at Lu’s stomach.
The Grozdans, Emerdians, and Tuncians organized into dozens of steamboats. Everyone around them knew what Lu had done. Raiders rejoiced, guffawing when Nate lifted the bow of a boat clear out of the water or Rosalia flew up to the top of a pilothouse. But Fatemah, Kari, the Tuncian raiders—they watched with darkened expressions.
Refugees, watching from high windows in tenements, slammed their shutters. They were terrified. These mothers, fathers, the elderly, the innocents—what frightened them most? Rosalia and Nate parading their magic, or the preparation for war?
Lu and Nayeli sat on a cramped Grozdan boat. Fatemah was on the shore, arms folded, talking to Kari, who stood on the deck of a Tuncian steamboat.
Kari felt Lu watching and turned, her lips parting. Lu closed her eyes.
I’ll be better this time, Mama.
Nayeli took Lu’s hand as the boat’s engine growled, surging them through Port Mesi-Teab and out into the twisting waterways of their island.
They reached Port Fausta at sunset.
This city was one of the most well maintained on Grace Loray, its roads smooth, with clear rivers snaking into it and bridges made of well-worn stone. The buildings mimicked the architecture on Grozda, everything coated in pale gray or tan stone with dozens of arching walkways and airy mezzanines. Chimneys poked the sky from domed rooftops, the curved shingles and graceful slopes too soft to come from a people so aggressive.
While most Mainland countries had switched to negotiating official trade agreements with the Grace Lorayan Republic after the revolution, Grozda was one of the few countries that had kept a trade set up with its raider syndicate counterpart. They bought heaps of magic from the Grozdan syndicate—Aerated Blossom and Healica, things of use in mountainous terrain.
The money stayed in the Grozdan syndicate, and the benefits did as well.
Lu had been to Port Fausta one other time since the revolution’s end. But now she huddled on the deck with Nayeli and other raiders, seeing this city after all that had happened, the awareness that had lifted her eyes.
The Council’s trade agreements had pulled funds away from other syndicates, yet the Council hadn’t taken steps to redistribute the services, protection, order, and regulation that the syndicates provided. When the war ended this time, things would be different. Whoever took powerwouldunderstandGrace Loray’s needs.
Lu’s boat was in a tight cluster of three. The rest had split off into small groups, all coming at Port Fausta from varying directions. Rosalia had spread word via Budwig Beans that the most likely place for an Argridian gathering would be Port Fausta’s main square, a wide area centered in the port where the city held daily markets, announcements, and executions.
That was their destination. They would dock. Sneak ashore. Eliminate any defensors they came across.
And unleash hell.
The setting sun cut scalding orange rays between Port Fausta’s buildings as Lu’s boat made one final turn. Ahead, vessels displaying the Argridian flag crowded docks. Seven, Lu counted, mostly medium steamboats and a few narrow longboats, possibly holding crews of six to ten people. There could be more boats docked elsewhere, more defensors already stationed here.
Lu tightened her grip on her pistol. Beside her, Nayeli pulled two clusters of Hemlight from satchels on her hips.
“Remember our goals,” came a voice from the pilothouse—Rosalia. “Kill Elazar. Grab a defensor or two to find out where our missing people are. Other than that”—her voice twisted into her usual giddiness—“have fun.”
The raiders grunted their agreement across the deck; a few made soft chirps of excitement.
